Chime
by Gindokei
Summary: For the NatsumeSeries contest. Natsume is a reluctant wedding planner who doesn't get along with people. So is cheerful, extroverted people's person Mikan Sakura exactly what he needs? AU, NxM. T for the occasional swear word.


_Chime_

**AN: Hey guys, this is for the NatsumeSeries contest! Contact **_**Romantically Loveless**_** or **_**The Unknown Abyss**_** for more details!**

**EDIT: _Chime_ won the 'Most Original' and 'Best In-Character' categories! Thank you so much, everyone!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Gakuen Alice**_**. That is the property of Ms. Tachibana Higuchi.**

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* * *

**I never intended becoming a wedding planner.

Obviously not. I mean, ask any young boy what he'd like to be, and one answer you will _definitely _not get is 'wedding planner'. Fireman, yes. Policeman, yes. Maybe even doctor or secret agent. A guy who mucks around with frilly stuff and flowers? No way. No _way_.

So how did it happen?

I'm not entirely sure myself, to be honest. It just… did. I suppose it all started with my sister's wedding. Aoi's was the first wedding I planned, after all.

Although I wasn't exactly supposed to plan it, to begin with.

* * *

"Aoi," I began, an edge of exasperation in my tone, "why are we at a wedding boutique at _seven in the morning_?" Arms folded, I leaned against the doorway to the boutique, attempting not to cringe at the over-the-top décor. Aoi's large eyes pleaded with me as she stood in front of me, her head bowed demurely as she rode out my anger.

"I mean," I continued, the frustration in my voice becoming more and more clear, "I understand if you need help with your dress, or whatever it is. But firstly, you do not go shopping at seven in the morning. I don't even want to know why this place is _open_ so early. And secondly – " I pressed my lips together, noting her cowed look, but plowing on regardless – "why did you bring _me_?"

Aoi kept her head bent for a few more seconds, as if to reassure herself that my rant was over. It wasn't, of course. I was still extremely annoyed about being dragged out of bed at six-fifteen and told to get ready. If it had been anyone else, I probably would've fished out a flamethrower from somewhere and let them have it.

Aoi, however – she's my younger sister. There are things she can get away with that would make me _murder_ anyone else who attempted them. As much as I cared for her and wanted to see her happy, though, there were limits to my endurance.

"Big brother," she finally began tentatively, "I know you're upset, and I'm sorry." She bit her lower lip, her eyes still fixed on her clasped hands. "But the thing is… I-I don't really have a maid of honor to do all this with me."

My angry look softened fractionally. Aoi had never been particularly popular at school – despite her cheerful, extroverted nature, there were too many people wary of her reputation. Since I was her brother, many people feared my interference in all aspects of her life and steered clear. There was also the fact that Aoi was blind.

Not fully blind, actually. She could still discern blurred shapes and vague, faded colors. Her eyesight had been mostly destroyed in a fire, many years ago. But in a way, her partial blindness frustrated her so much more than complete blindness would have. It allowed her, at times, to fool herself. To think that nothing was wrong with her. On a good day, she could almost see properly, and she would be so thrilled, thinking her sight was returning. And then the next day, she would discover no, it had all been a false hope.

But I digress.

Her fellow classmates hadn't wanted to care for a handicapped girl, and although a few girls had attempted to befriend her, Aoi's strange fascination for companionship had led her to overdoing the entire friend routine, and the girls hadn't come back.

She wasn't a loner, though, by any stretch of imagination. Aoi made sure she was always in the know, and that people saw her – even if she couldn't see them. She wasn't obnoxious about it, exactly – well, not to _most_ people – but her loudness had its side effects. She didn't actually talk to another person outside of class for an entire year.

That person ended up being Hiroshi, her fiancé.

Back to the story.

So, Aoi hadn't managed to acquire a maid of honor. I knew that some of our cousins had agreed to be her bridesmaids – wouldn't one of them have done as her maid of honor? I didn't know. Supposedly, the maid of honor was supposed to be the closest person to you, but who cared if it had ended up being a girl she'd never talked to before? It was all just for show, anyway.

"Aoi." My patience was wearing thin. "I am _not_ going to go dress shopping with you. Ask one of Hiroshi's female friends to be your maid of honor."

Aoi's bottom lip trembled. "But… but this is my _wedding_. I want it to be special, big brother! I don't want just _anyone_ to help me with it. I want to plan my wedding with the person I love and trust the most in this world."

I glanced down at my watch. Seven twelve. I wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

I pressed one finger to my forehead. "Just this once, all right?"

* * *

It wasn't just that once.

Aoi managed to coax me into helping her choose her wedding gown, the church where the wedding would be held, the reception hall, the flower arrangements… I accompanied her _everywhere_. Since she couldn't see particularly well, I had to help her choose the 'right colors' and the 'perfect dress' and so on and so on. The things I put up with because of her…

Everywhere I went, I noticed people casting me funny looks. At first, they assumed I was her fiancé, and when the woman in charge of the décor for the reception actually mentioned 'what a cute couple' we were, I coolly informed her that she and her chin made an equally dashing pair. Aoi was furious with me after that, but after that incident, she made it a point to start conversations with "I'm Aoi Hyūga, and this is my _brother_, Natsume."

By the time the wedding arrived, I knew every minuscule detail about the wedding. I knew that the flowers were gladioli in a shade the florist described as 'blush pink'; that the gladioli were accompanied by 'off-white' carnations; that the tablecloths were 'shell pink'(which looked the same as 'blush pink' to me, to be honest) and hemmed with silver; that Aoi's dress was definitely not too low-cut(it was) and that all the bridesmaids were decked out in 'moonlit silver' gowns(moonlit silver? What kind of stupid names did these fashion-type people come up with?).

It vaguely irritated me that I knew all these details. I also knew Aoi's wedding song by heart – I'm not sure why she insisted I sit in on the organist's practices, but I did to stop her from breaking down – and that it would be played at exactly six minutes and twenty-seven seconds past three.

My head was full of wedding details, and unfortunately lacking in the details it _really_ needed.

All my life, I'd wanted to become a neurosurgeon. It seemed like the ideal occupation – I'd have quiet surroundings(people on anesthesia didn't talk much, neither did nurses on the job) and a steady income. After Aoi had her accident, I was even more determined to make sure no other little girl suffered the way she had.

No, I am not a closet philanthropist. To be honest, I don't give a damn about others. That was always Aoi's job. Funny how she was always shunned, and I was always worshipped.

But when she was lying in that hospital room, the bandages over her eyes, and I went to visit her – she told me something. She told me to make my dream of becoming a surgeon true – told me that if I could make some other child see again, it would make her happy, too.

How was I supposed to say no to that?

But, of course, I didn't end up becoming a neurosurgeon after all. Life has a funny way of messing things up so spectacularly that you end up not minding, in the end.

Aoi's wedding was perfect. Everything went according to plan, and the single hitch – the flower girls had both fallen ill, and couldn't make it – was quickly remedied by me dashing around and handing flower petals to everyone to throw. So Aoi arrived with rose petals arcing over her head, instead of strewn before her.

You might ask why I went to such lengths to make Aoi's wedding so flawless. The answer is simple – it's always simple in theory. It's because I love her, and I want the best for her, and I could see that Hiroshi made her happy in a way no one else ever could or would.

Part of me wanted to wring his scrawny neck for it, but oh well.

When the organist starting playing her wedding song, I tapped the beat on the pew in front of me. When the vocalist joined him, her high soprano voice echoing in the swooping roof of the church, I felt a kind of peace I'd never felt before.

_In a perfect world __  
One we've never known__  
We would never need  
To face the world alone…_

When Aoi stood next to Hiroshi and vowed to love him forever – when she lit the unity candle with him – I knew it wouldn't be the last time I saw such an occasion.

It didn't make it any less magical.

… no, I did _not_ just sound like a girl. God.

* * *

So three years later, I wasn't a surgeon – but I owned a fledgling business, which was nothing to laugh at. I didn't have many people helping me, although I did have different contacts that were concerned with all the aspects of a wedding. That woman who decorated Aoi's reception hall? She's annoying as hell, but she sure gets the job done.

My lack of assistants made Mikan Sakura's appearance even more puzzling.

I never advertised for help. I never sent out a message to the newspaper. But for some reason, the clipping she had with her did, in fact, give my business' name.

The mystery was easily solved when I saw the phone number attached.

"Let me get this straight, Sakura-san," I spoke flatly. "You talked to my sister – and she told you to come see me?"

The woman in front of me fidgeted. "Well, yes," she replied in a subdued tone. Something about the set of her mouth told me that she wasn't used to being so subservient – tough luck for her.

"She said you needed help," Sakura added belatedly, raising her eyes to meet mine. There was a mingled expression of eagerness and annoyance in her gaze. "I used to be in the same class as Aoi-chan, and I attended her wedding. She told me _you_ planned all of that. Is that true?"

I grunted, which was probably the only type of answer she'd get from me.

"It was great! I couldn't believe it when she told me her _brother_ had helped her with her wedding." Sakura paused, a smile flitting across her face. "You must love her a lot to have done something like that."

I raised my eyebrows. "And what made you come to that conclusion?" I questioned dryly. Sakura's mouth dropped open, and she fumbled for an answer for a few seconds.

"W-well… I mean…" she stuttered, looking quite comical as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Er… what I meant was…"

I held up a hand. "Let me guess," I spoke. "You've never heard of a straight, male wedding planner – is that right?"

Sakura's face promptly turned a vivid shade of pink. "Ahh," she stammered, wrapping the fingers of one hand around a single finger of the other hand and twisting, "I didn't…"

"You did," I nodded, secretly enjoying her awkwardness. "That is a terrible stereotype, Sakura-san. Furthermore, what makes you think I'm heterosexual at all? What gave you the impression?"

"I just…"

Her reactions were getting repetitive. I shrugged and got up from my chair, moving to stand a few feet from her.

"For your information, Sakura-san, why I did what I did for my sister is my own personal business. I am not in need of an assistant at the moment, and so I recommend that you go home and search for another job."

She flushed again, but this time out of anger. "That's not fair! I already quit my old job because Aoi-chan told me I would definitely get this one! And now you're telling me you don't need an assistant?? That isn't fair!"

"Ever heard of the age-old adage? Life is never fair." I narrowed my eyes at her, wishing I could plug my ears. Her screeching voice was getting on my nerves.

She shot me a hostile glare and marched out of the small office. I smirked and returned to my chair, contemplating on how to handle Fujimoto-san's wedding reception.

* * *

Mikan Sakura returned to my office the next day.

At ten 'o' clock, she barged into the middle of my meeting, annoying two of my clients and causing the third to call her 'an interfering old hag'. Sakura didn't pay any attention to the bride's sister's slur and faced me instead, hands on her hips.

"I am not leaving here until you give me the job," she announced, her jaw set quite stubbornly. "I'm even qualified! I've organized my best friend's wedding with her! And I even helped her older brother with his wedding…!"

"Excuse me," I apologized stiffly to my irate customers. "I'll be right back. Why don't you decide on the flower arrangements?" I pushed an album of arrangements towards them and got to my feet, moving towards the door.

I grabbed Sakura by the arm and yanked her outside, releasing her as soon as the door swung shut behind me.

"What the hell are you playing at?" I hissed, my teeth clenching in rage. "I swear, if you make me lose these customers…"

"Then give me the job!" Her brown eyes shone determinedly. "Or I'll interrupt even _more_ of your meetings!"

I exhaled sharply, folding my arms across my chest. "Give me one good reason why I should give you this job."

She seemed caught off-guard by my question and frowned for a moment. "Well… I really want it," she ventured to say. I rolled my eyes.

"A better one."

Sakura sighed. "A wedding is such a magical thing… I want to help as many people as possible, so that they can have their perfect wedding. Isn't that good enough?"

I eyed her incredulously. She was either a selfless angel or a humungous idiot. I couldn't quite decide.

A sly smile made its way onto my face as an idea occurred to me. "All right, Sakura-san. I'll give you the job."

Oh, the fun I would have.

* * *

"… I might be wrong, but I don't think this is what an assistant to a wedding planner should be doing."

I scowled at her and plucked the glass off the tray she was holding, feeling the condensation wet my hands.

"Shut up, strawberry."

"What the… what's that for?" she protested, her cheeks turning pink. "Is that some sort of perverted nickname?"

I snickered. "Yeah, you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

Her face was positively aflame. "You jerk!"

"Ah, ah," I warned her, taking a sip of the cool beverage. "Don't speak that way to your boss, Sakura-san."

She pressed her lips together, obviously annoyed. "All right, Hyūga-san," she said stiffly, trying to disguise her disdain. "What would you like me to do next?"

I rested the glass on my desk and folded my hands together. "Escort my next customer – I do believe that she will be arriving shortly."

Sakura narrowed her eyes and turned, flouncing out of the door with her nose in the air. She pulled her long, light brown braid over one shoulder as she shut the door behind her with an all-too-audible bang.

I wondered why we put up with each other. She obviously didn't like me. I wasn't too fond of her, either. Was she that desperate for a job? And was I that desperate for revenge?

_Nah. It's just a temporary thing. I'll let her go in a couple of days._

I heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and the low melody of voices. "Natsume!" Sakura called loudly. "Umenomiya-san is here!"

"Send her in," I replied, scowling slightly and reminding myself to tell her to address me more respectfully next time.

* * *

Anna Umenomiya was a type A customer.

Type A as in, Avoid At All Costs.

She was the human incarnation of a sugar pastry. Her ideas for the wedding were all as dainty and fairytale-like as a child's paper chain. And she spoke in such a high, cooing voice – I couldn't stand it at all.

True, a wedding planner couldn't be biased – a customer is a customer, after all. But something about her grated on my nerves, and I ended up being quite abrupt with her. She left my office in tears, and I couldn't say I wasn't happy to see her back.

Outside, I could hear a soft murmuring – Sakura had obviously asked Umenomiya what was wrong. A discussion commenced – I imagined the sweet, pink-haired young woman hurling abuses at me and couldn't stop a small smirk. The very thought was so amusing.

"It's all right, Anna-chan," I heard Sakura say. "Don't you worry – Natsume is a bit harsh. I'll help you, if you'd like. And I'll talk to him about seeing you again when he's in a better mood, okay?"

A small, almost inaudible sniffle was her only reply. I silently ground my teeth together at the sound of Sakura addressing me so casually. As if she knew when I was and wasn't in a good mood!

Sakura tapped on my office door a few minutes later. When I didn't reply, she walked in anyway, her eyes narrowed.

"Are you _always_ so rude to your customers? How on earth have you kept this business afloat for three years?"

I snorted. "Don't tell me how to run my business."

She crossed her arms, looking annoyed. "Listen, you – I don't care how successful your weddings are. You seriously need to develop some people skills!"

I opened my mouth to tell her exactly what I thought of her 'people skills' when another idea occurred to me.

It was so simple.

Aoi had always told me that I was too harsh, too rude to people. As much as I was loath to admit it, I had, in fact, lost a fair number of customers because of my attitude and my habit of judging them at first sight.

What if I could use Mikan Sakura as my go-between?

She seemed to be quite adept at handling people. She'd managed to calm Umenomiya down, hadn't she? And I'd really been quite rude to her – more than I usually was to infuriating customers. She'd even managed to make the pink-haired woman agree to visit my office again…

I could use that to my advantage.

"Sakura-san," I addressed her with a faint, triumphant smile, "would you like to begin your _real_ work?"

* * *

Sakura, surprisingly enough, did not hurl insults at me when she discovered I'd been fooling her the entire time.

I didn't tell her the entire story – certainly not that I'd been planning on firing her after a few days – but she was perceptive. I'm sure she picked up on what my actual plan had been, but to her credit, she did not explode. Instead, she offered me a slight smile and left my office without a word.

Later that afternoon, Umenomiya-san returned. Sakura remained in the room with me as I talked to the young woman, and she frequently interrupted me and suggested other means of implementing Umenomiya-san's ideas.

Needless to say, she left my office satisfied. When Umenomiya-san had departed, I turned to Sakura and lifted both eyebrows, looking at her in a new light.

"This is definitely going to work," I remarked, nodding ever so slightly. She seemed to accept that she wouldn't get a better thanks from me, and nodded as well.

"At least I'm doing real work now," she commented, shooting me a glance. I smirked – so she _was_ annoyed about that. Somehow, it satisfied me to get under her skin – maybe it was because she was so composed around the customers.

"Behave yourself, strawberry," I warned her mildly, getting up and shuffling some papers on my desk. I heard Sakura's sharp intake of breath and grinned inwardly.

"What is with that nickname?" she asked, albeit more calmly that I had thought she would. "You leer at me every time you say it. It's something perverted, isn't it? I knew it! Argh, out of all the bosses I could work for, I got _you_!"

"Would you relax?" I answered in a bored tone. "You were wearing all red when you came to see me the first time. You looked like a strawberry. That's _all_."

She huffed, but appeared more relieved than anything else when I turned back to her. I raised my eyebrows again and placed a bundle of papers in her hands. Sakura looked truly bemused at my actions, and I suppressed an irritated sigh.

"You're in charge of Anna Umenomiya's wedding. Deal with her as you see fit. I can't _stand_ the woman."

Sakura frowned, and for a moment, I thought she was going to reprimand me for being rude again. Then her eyes fell on the paper at the top of the bundle I'd given her.

_Contact Numbers_, I'd written in neat cursive. The very top number was of the woman I usually contacted for flower arrangements – a Ms. Asuka Tenjoin. Sakura's gaze skimmed down the list and returned to the top once more – I saw her eyes widen and acquire a strange sheen.

"You… you know Asuka Tenjoin?" she asked, in an odd breathless voice. "_The_ Asuka Tenjoin?"

I blinked, a little startled by her sudden shift in mood. "I definitely know _an_ Asuka Tenjoin…"

Sakura emitted a small squealing sound. I flinched and resisted the urge to clap my hands over my ears. "Are you _serious_? That's amazing! You _know_ her! You have her _number_!"

"And now, so do you," I couldn't resist pointing out. I wondered if she'd burst a vein or something. Sakura beamed widely.

"Yes! So I do! Oh my goodness, I can't wait to tell mama…" She practically danced towards the door and forgot to shut it behind her, so enthralled was she on having Tenjoin-san's number. I looked after her, inwardly sighing. It appeared that I would have to deal with a lot of similar things, as long as she worked for me.

Honestly, though… what was so awe-inspiring about a woman who arranged flowers for a living?

* * *

"Natsume!" Sakura bubbled as she walked into my office a few days later. "You'll never guess what happened!"

"What?" I asked irritably, looking up from the notes I'd written the previous day. So-and-So wanted these kind of flowers, Such-and-Such wanted a certain _type_ of silk to be used as tablecloths…

"Well," Sakura began, comfortably seating herself on the chair opposite me, "you have to assign me a new customer!"

I stared at her blankly. "What, Umenomiya's married already? How the hell did you manage to do everything in such a short time?"

Sakura shook her head. "She didn't get married after all… at least, not like that. It turned out that her family disapproved of her fiancé, so they eloped last night!" Her eyes grew wide and watery. "Isn't that romantic?"

My eyes, in turn, narrowed. "No," I shot back, "it's a loss for us. Didn't you already organize different aspects of the wedding?"

She looked startled. "Well, yes… but Anna-chan promised she'd pay us as soon as she got back from her honeymoon."

I growled. "That's not the point – what are we supposed to do with all the things she'd already ordered? We can't afford to anger any of these people, Sakura! If they find out we don't need their things…"

The silly woman shrugged. "I'll just tell them what happened. Don't worry about it, Natsume."

"Don't call me that," I muttered, scribbling down an additional note in the margin of the paper I was reviewing. "I'm your boss, not your friend."

I heard her sigh. "Why can't you be both?" she asked softly.

I didn't reply.

"What I don't understand," she continued, "is how you are running one of the most romantic businesses in the world – and you don't have a single romantic bone in your body!"

Her assumptions were getting on my nerves. She'd only known me for a few days – how on earth could she just presume I wasn't romantic? Although I wasn't, really.

"Sakura-san," I addressed her coolly, without looking up, "I suggest you apply yourself to your job instead of trying to analyze me."

"I would," she replied, "but you haven't given me anything to do."

I grunted. "Fine." Picking up the paper I'd been working on, I shoved it in her direction. "Read over this. I want you to come with me tomorrow – Shouda-san has already let me know about her preferences, but she says she would like to come along when we meet the florist."

Sakura's eyes lit up. "Are we going to see Tenjoin-sama?" she asked eagerly.

I rolled my eyes. "No. Apparently, Shouda-san does not appreciate her work, and expressly asked for another florist."

Sakura's shoulders slumped. "All right…"

Rubbing one temple discreetly, I shuffled through my papers and selected another one. "After tomorrow, I am putting you in charge of Shouda-san's wedding. It shouldn't be too hard, seeing as she has everything planned out in her head. Just help her along, all right?"

Sakura nodded vigorously. "You can count on me!" she smiled.

* * *

Four months later, I realized just how much of a help Mikan Sakura had come to be.

She handled my customers efficiently and politely. She was able to convince even the most stubborn bride-to-be to change a small detail here or there, and if I was too brusque with someone, she would immediately step in and calm the customer down.

It was almost frightening how much I'd come to depend on her.

I still handled the more important parts of the business – the finances and the contacts – but I could see that Sakura was getting more and more comfortable playing the part of my partner. It disturbed me. I'd always been a one-man show – I handled everything at all times. Now, with Sakura there, I had time to relax – but nothing to do while I was relaxing.

It frustrated me beyond belief.

Sakura was _perfect_. She didn't make mistakes. Yes, she was idiotic at times, she hero-worshipped famous people, she was clumsy and childish and loud. But when she had a job to do – when she was faced with a situation – she became a completely different person. A person who remained unfazed and unflustered, no matter how petulant a customer was being.

How did she do it? was the man question on my mind as I watched her work. Her first big job – Sumire Shouda's wedding – went off without a hitch. I had personally found Shouda-san irritating and loud, but Sakura managed to befriend her within three days, and finished preparing for the wedding almost a week before schedule.

It was most perplexing.

Mikan Sakura was not the sharpest nail in the box. To put it bluntly, she wasn't particularly smart. Ask her to handle finances, and she would cringe. Ask her to develop a schedule or layout for a wedding, and she'd run in the opposite direction.

But when she was with people, she was in her element. It was fascinating.

Four months after she had first barged into my office, I was contemplating the idea of working on a wedding _with_ her.

Don't get me wrong. I didn't like Mikan Sakura as a person. She continued to address me casually, and insisted that we were friends, that me being her boss didn't matter. Her cheerful nature clashed with mine; I was, by nature, far more serious and much less optimistic. As a result, a daily quarrel between us was nothing out of the ordinary.

I couldn't get rid of her, though. Losing her would mean losing profit.

The business's profits had almost doubled since Sakura had joined. I suspected it was because people were no longer put off by my impatient nature and were instead faced with Miss Smiles, who was far more adept at manipulating them.

She never _saw_ it as manipulation, though. She always saw the world through rose-colored glasses.

But, I digress. Again.

I was actually prepared to work _with_ her for a wedding. Because this wedding was no ordinary one – it had to be perfect. Maybe even more perfect than Aoi's had been.

"Sakura-san," I addressed her when she had seated herself comfortably. "You will be working with me for our latest project. I have cancelled all other appointments, as this particular wedding needs to be given my full priority."

Her brown eyes widened. "Who on earth is that important to you?" she asked, sounding half-impressed and half-exasperated, like she couldn't believe my words.

A fleeting smile made the corners of my lips curl upwards for a brief moment. "My best friend."

Sakura blinked. "You… _you_ have a best friend?" she asked hesitantly, as if waiting for me to shout 'kidding!'

"Yes," I replied, amused by her reaction. "I do."

"Wow," she muttered to herself. "The Ice King actually has _friends_."

I smirked. "I thought you considered yourself to be one of them."

She didn't have any answer to that, and chose to fiddle with the end of her braid instead.

Sensing that she was waiting for me to elaborate, I reluctantly did so. "Luca and I have known each other for a long time. I want to make sure he doesn't regret choosing me to plan this important day for him."

"I'm sure he wouldn't," she protested, looking up. "He chose you because you're his friend, not because he thought you'd do the best job!"

My lips turned downwards, and Sakura seemed to realize her mistake. She flushed and added, "Not that, you know, you won't. Because you will. But he chose you because you're first his friend, not his wedding planner… right?"

"I'm afraid you're wrong there."

As she gaped at me, obviously stunned by my words, I continued, "_I_ will not be arranging Luca's wedding by myself. Don't you remember why I called you in the first place?"

Realization dawned on her face. "You want me to help you with your best friend's wedding?" she asked in disbelief.

I gave a short nod. I wasn't about to take any chances with Luca's wedding.

A smile spread across her face. "What can I say but of course?"

* * *

Luca's wedding was one I would never forget.

* * *

The next day, I asked Sakura to come to my office a little earlier than she usually did. Luca and his fiancée were going to be coming in at ten-thirty to meet us, and I wanted to make sure Sakura wouldn't make a total fool of herself in front of my best friend.

I should probably tell you a little bit about Luca Nogi.

We met when we were eight, and have been best friends since. He loves animals, and always wanted to become a vet. End of story.

I wasn't very well acquainted with his fiancée, though. I had met Klara Boestad only once before – she was a high-class lady and the only heir to her father's massive pharmaceuticals chain. Strangely enough, though, Luca's engagement to her had not been once of convenience – he had met her on his single visit to France and had fallen completely in love with her. When he returned to Japan, she followed him; and the rest, as they say, is history.

Sakura arrived at my office at ten past ten, and I wasted five minutes coldly lecturing her about the importance of punctuality. I have a distinct feeling that my lecture was a complete waste – she kept casting nervous glances at the door. Finally, I gave up and settled for making sure she would remain relatively quiet throughout the entire exchange. She looked put out about becoming mute but agreed reluctantly.

When Luca and Klara finally arrived, Sakura broke that agreement in a heartbeat.

"So you're Luca-kun!" she greeted my best friend with far too much cheerfulness. "Wow, looking at you, I'd never think you and Natsume would be best friends!"

Klara looked from her fiancé to my assistant in interest.

"Luca," I interrupted Sakura's enthusiastic greeting, "this is Mikan Sakura. She's going to be helping me with your wedding."

Luca cast me a curious sidelong glance – he was obviously wondering why on earth I had chosen such a bubbly and irritating woman to help me. I lifted one eyebrow and shrugged slightly.

"_Enchantée_, Mikan," Klara spoke politely. Sakura offered her a smile in reply, and Klara smiled back.

Only three minutes into the meeting and she was already working her magic.

I sat Luca and Klara down and proceeded to question them about their plans. They differed enormously in their ideas for the wedding – Luca, for some strange reason, wanted a big wedding while Klara was more happy with a quieter, more personal service. They argued with each other, but it was good-natured, and I could tell one of them would eventually give in.

Sakura took over from there, standing in between them and animatedly discussing the possibility of a compromise. Eventually, they settled on a bigger wedding, with family and close friends invited. Klara immediately extended an invitation to Sakura, which astounded me once more.

While the two women chatted, Luca drew me aside. "Natsume," he spoke in a low voice, "since when have you had a partner?"

I sighed. "She's not a partner," I replied with a touch of irritation. "She's just an assistant."

Luca snorted. "Sure doesn't look like it. In fact, _she_ looks like the boss, and you look like her lackey."

I raised my eyebrows coolly, and Luca bit back a smile. "Kidding, kidding," he grinned, lightly punching me on the shoulder. "Seriously, though. I thought you didn't need any help."

"I don't," I assured him. "But she has a habit of being incredibly annoying if you don't give her what she wants."

"I can guess," Luca smiled. "Seems she and Klara have hit it off, though."

"Mmm," I replied noncommittally.

"Natsume," Luca spoke again, turning to me, "you _do_ know that you're going to be my best man… right?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Of course. Who else is going to put up with you?"

He laughed and returned to his fiancée. I lingered by the doorway, watching the three of them interact.

It was a strangely touching sight. What was it about Mikan Sakura that wormed its way into everyone's hearts?

Enough was enough, I decided. "All right," I announced, moving away from the door and towards the other three, "so we have a brief idea of what you want. Boestad-san – would you like to come over tomorrow, to have a look at the different locations I can offer for the wedding and reception?"

Klara looked up, smiling and nodding. "Sure. That would be great," she spoke in laboured Japanese. "Can… can Luca come, too?"

I cast a curious glance at Luca. "If he wants to, I suppose."

"Of course," my best friend agreed. "What time, Natsume?"

"Around one should be all right."

"If that's convenient to you," Sakura added, shooting me a cautious glance. Irritatingly enough, it wasn't a 'I'm-wary-of-how-you-will-react' glance, but more of a 'behave-politely-towards-the-customers' glance.

Luca was right. She was acting like my boss. I was going to have to put a stop to this.

As soon as Luca and Klara left, I turned to Sakura. She looked pleased – her eyes were shining, and her hands were clasped in front of her.

"You have good taste in friends, Natsume!" she remarked, dropping her hands. "Luca-kun is so kind! And Klara-chan is really very pretty and refined. It was so sweet seeing her speaking Japanese!"

"Sakura," I interrupted her monologue, "I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?" she asked, eyes widening as she deciphered my serious expression. I strolled over to my chair and took a seat, picking up a pen and flipping it between my fingers.

"Firstly, don't call me Natsume. I am your boss, not your co-worker and certainly not your friend. Secondly, I'd like you to behave a little more respectfully towards me. Frankly, I don't give a damn about how you address me, but my assistant addressing me so casually is bound to cause confusion in my customers."

Sakura's eyes widened further, and I was sure she was going to retaliate, tell me that of course she was my friend, and that she didn't _care_ about confusing the customers. To my intense surprise, however, she merely ducked her head and mumbled something before slipping out of the office.

I let my pen drop onto the desk and frowned thoughtfully.

Mikan Sakura was certainly an enigma.

* * *

The next day was a complete disaster.

For one thing, Sakura had taken home one of my photo albums a few days ago and had yet to return it. When Klara and Luca arrived, I realized that the album she'd taken was one of the churches, which meant that I wouldn't be able to show them locations for the actual wedding that day.

Next, when I opened the album to show Klara some suggestions for the reception, I noticed that some of the pages were sticking together. Frowning, I attempted to pry them apart, only to realize that when I'd last glued them back to the album pages(the pictures kept falling out…), I'd accidentally glued some of the pages together.

Dis. As. Ter.

Since I couldn't offer them any pictures, I decided to take them around the city instead, showing them the locations in person. Sakura, of course, tagged along, and was busy chatting with Klara and ogling the surroundings. I pretended not to notice her, for the most part.

We weren't allowed into the first church we visited, and not even my name could move the burly security guards. Embarrassingly enough, Sakura stepped forward and regaled them with various tales of my successfully planned weddings. The guards eventually agreed to let us in, although the way one of them winked at Sakura made me shudder inwardly.

That was the problem when you dealt with high-profile locations.

Sakura and I managed to salvage the situation, though. Klara eventually decided on a church and reception hall, and Luca voiced no protests. Insisting that she had to make it up to all of us, Sakura treated us to lunch at a small café.

I suppose it was kind of her to do that, but the burger I had there ended up making me sick to my stomach, and so I had to leave early.

I spent the rest of the day imaging how exactly Sakura was screwing everything up.

No, I did not have much faith in her. Which is why I was surprised when I answered the door later that evening and found her on the other side.

"Hi!" she greeted me cheerfully, thrusting the box she held in her hands towards me. "I brought cake."

I handled the box carefully, staring at it blankly. It was white, with a polka-dotted ribbon tied around it. Cake? Why had she brought cake?

"I don't want it," I spoke coolly. "I don't really like sweets."

Her face fell at my response, and she scuffed the floor outside with her toe. "Oh… I didn't know," she said softly, looking embarrassed. "Here, I'll take it back if you'd like… I just wanted to say sorry for lunch…"

I narrowed my eyes. "How did that go after I went?" I asked pointedly. Sakura flushed faintly.

"It went well!" she protested, sounding injured. "I went with Klara-chan to look at some bridesmaid dresses while Luca-kun went back home. She found some really pretty ones, so she said she'd bring her bridesmaids tomorrow and have them try some on. I said I'd go with her."

I raised my eyebrows. So she _hadn't_ screwed everything up. Well, that was good to know.

"I see."

Sakura nodded. "Are… are you feeling better?" She made to take the cake box away from me, but I held it out of her reach. A small smirk played on my lips.

"You know, I think I'll keep this, after all, Polka-dots," I told her. "Aoi always liked cake."

Sakura looked oddly pleased at my words and dropped her outstretched arms. She didn't even react to the nickname. "Okay," she smiled, peering past me. "Can I come in?"

I shrugged, moving aside. "Suit yourself."

Sakura took her shoes off at the door and looked around, appearing fascinated. I couldn't understand why. My apartment wasn't exactly luxurious – although I made a fair bit from the wedding planner business, I preferred to hoard my money away instead of wasting it on frivolous things. Sakura, however, gazed around with shining eyes.

"You have a nice home, Natsume," she commented, and for once, I didn't reprimand her for using my given name. Partly because I was feeling a little more generous towards her – she _had_ come to apologize – and partly because my stomach lurched at that very moment.

Trying not to appear ill, I turned to Sakura. "Please sit down," I spoke calmly, and then moved towards the bathroom as slowly as I could.

I heard Sakura say something, but I wasn't sure what it was – I had already moved inside the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Lifting up the toilet seat, I hunched my shoulders as I retched into the bowl.

My entire body felt weak as I slumped sideways, my shoulder bumping against the sink. My stomach roiled again and I moved towards the toilet bowl again, hating the sour taste in my mouth.

Someone knocked on the door. "Natsume?" It was Sakura. I didn't reply, too busy vomiting into the toilet again. I heard a creak as the door opened, and she was suddenly by my side.

"Natsume…" She sounded worried. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and I tried to push them off, but to no avail. My throat felt tight.

"I'm fine," I rasped. "Maybe you should leave, Mikan."

She was still for a moment. "No," she finally said, sounding determined. "You're sick. I have to take care of you."

"Don't be ridiculous," I growled, lifting my head and staring at her angrily. "I'm perfectly fine. I'll be in the office tomorrow."

"Are you stupid?" she cried. "You're ill! You can't possibly work!"

"Shut up!" I shrugged her hands off my shoulders. "It's just a small stomach upset, I'll be healthy again in a few hours!"

"Let me help you," she whispered. She reached up and tugged a hand towel off the rack, standing up to wet it under the faucet. Then she knelt down again and passed the towel gently over my mouth.

I grasped her by the wrist and yanked her hand away.

"Leave me alone," I said in a low voice. "I don't need your help."

"Or is it that you don't want it?"

I stared at her emotionlessly, until my stomach reacted again and I was forced to turn away from her and back to the toilet. She rubbed my back the entire time, and I was too tired to tell her to stop. I allowed her to lead me back to bed, all the while promising myself that I would be fine the next day and would properly reprimand Sakura for not listening to me.

When I fell asleep, I could hear her talking to me in a hushed voice.

* * *

I didn't get better the next day.

Or the day after that.

In fact, I was sick for a good week. It turned out that I had gastroenteritis, and couldn't exert myself too much. As a result, I had no choice but to allow Sakura to handle Luca and Klara's wedding. She handled it well enough, actually – she came to my apartment every day and reported what had happened. Klara had selected dresses for her bridesmaids and her maid of honor; they had gone over the menu for catering at the reception; Luca and Klara had argued over the music to be played, but Klara had eventually won; Luca was still waiting for me to plan his bachelor party.

In addition to letting me know what was going on, Sakura also made sure that I was properly hydrated and wasn't uncomfortable. She came to see me every morning before leaving for the office, and every evening. I think she even stole one of my house keys so that she could let herself in.

Her busybody ways annoyed me, but I was far too exhausted to let her know exactly how they annoyed me. Not to mention, I couldn't help but notice how nice it was to be taken care of.

My mother died when I was very young, and although my father had always worried about Aoi and I, he had been too busy working to sit down and 'mother' us for a while. Then, when Aoi had her accident, I always looked after her.

I was used to being the one caring, instead of being cared for. I didn't _need_ looking after.

But I'd come to realize that even if you don't need something, it can feel nice.

When Sakura came to my house, I noticed a change in her. She wasn't as clumsy or loud as usual – but she wasn't as composed or chattering as when she was with a customer, either. She was careful and considerate, and didn't even react when I snapped at her to go away.

It was amazing.

Aoi came over one day, too, and stayed with me while Sakura went to the office. She asked me about how the wedding planning was going, and I was forced to admit that I really didn't know. Sakura gave me details, but she didn't tell me if it was going successfully or not.

Luca and Klara's wedding was in a month.

When I was finally well enough to stand on my own two feet, Sakura _still_ insisted on me staying at home for a few more days. "I can handle it," she assured me. "I don't want you falling sick again."

Of course, I didn't listen to her.

But the fact that I actually _thought_ about listening to her told me something.

I didn't feel outright dislike for Mikan Sakura anymore.

I wasn't sure when my feelings had changed. Had it been that day she'd first come over to my house? Or had it been even earlier, when I'd noticed how well she handled customers?

When I returned to the office, I took stock of the finances and realized that Sakura had been spending far too carelessly. I pointed that out to her, and she merely waved it aside, promising that Luca and Klara would pay us back.

Later, when I went home, I realized that our conversation had resembled one of a husband and wife.

The rest of the preparations went off according to plan. There was a bit of a hitch when the caterers, who were bringing over samples, ran their trunk into the car of the florist(Sakura's precious Tenjoin-san), but Tenjoin-san wasn't badly hurt, and was placated by a promise of free food(I suspect it was for her husband…).

I even planned Luca's bachelor party. It never happened, though, because Luca got cold feet at the end and decided he really didn't want to be ogling half-naked women the day before his wedding.

And so, the fateful day finally arrived.

Sakura and I met up at the office, from where we would proceed to the church together. I'd offhandedly asked her to accompany me, and she'd accepted.

There wasn't anything special about Sakura that day. She wore her hair a little differently, yes – it was loose instead of tied back in a braid – and she was wearing a dress… but she didn't look _that_ different. She still looked like whining, childish Mikan Sakura.

When we drove up to the church, I parked the car and even consented to hold the door open for her. It was the polite thing to do, after all – but the smile she gave me afterward did strange things to me. I found myself thinking that I would do anything to protect that smile.

… probably a result of the liquor I'd downed with Luca the previous night.

The wedding was – dare I say it? – beautiful. I don't have much of an eye for details, but everything went off perfectly, and Luca and Klara both looked very happy.

Sakura was positively glowing as she watched them exchange their vows. I cast a covert glance at her, wondering at the ethereal shimmer in her eyes.

She said she wanted to make everyone happy. But who would make her happy?

Mikan Sakura was selfish for all the wrong reasons. She thought bringing happiness to others would bring happiness to herself. And it would – but she needed someone to make her happy, too. Didn't she?

I blinked as I realized that Luca and Klara had already exchanged their kiss. As they moved to walk down the aisle together, I clapped Luca on the back and made my way towards Sakura.

"It was beautiful," she gushed, pressing a handkerchief to her eyes. I smirked a little at her emotional state.

"You did well, Mikan."

She stiffened in surprise, and then smiled up at me.

"_We_ did well."

It was then that I realized something.

I wasn't in love with Mikan Sakura.

I wasn't ready to stand up there and vow to love and care for her forever.

I wasn't ready to marry her.

But I was ready to contemplate the _idea_ of loving her.

_Like dark, turning into day  
Somehow we'll come through  
Now that I've found you  
Love will find a way…_

_

* * *

_**AN: Ahh, I know Natsume was out of character! I'm sorry! But I really, really like this piece! I'm not entirely sure why, but I'm really proud of it! (:**

**I didn****'****t know what to name the florist, so I picked a random name from one of the other animes I watch. Can you guess who her husband is? ;)**

**UPDATE (14/9/09) - changed ****_Ruka_ to _Luca_.  
**

**8,377 words.**


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